


Motherhood

by lumenhunter



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 16:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19089199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenhunter/pseuds/lumenhunter
Summary: Childhood Ending. The new Great One needs to be cared for, to grow. The Doll enjoys some maternal feelings.





	Motherhood

**Author's Note:**

> Not betad and over a year old.

The workshop was no longer on fire. The flames and smoke slowly died down as the Dream righted itself. Gehrman was gone, but soon enough there would be another to take its place. Some other foolish human who sought to appeal to the Great Ones. The Moon Presence was gone; but that, too, was merely part of a greater cycle. In its place lay the remnants of a good hunter. Remnant was, perhaps, the incorrect word. After all he had Ascended, overcome his base human nature to become something more. The young Great One writhed, flailing limply on the cobblestone path. How it had gotten so far on its own the doll did not know. Weakened and exhausted from its long journey from the large field where it had started, it called to her wordlessly. It could not cry, had not mouth for words, but she understood all the same.The doll smiled down fondly.

“Are you cold?” she asked, picking it up with a small giggle. It was large cradled in her arms, almost as long as her arm and far thicker. Her guess had been correct, the poor thing was cold to touch, sent out in the world with nothing to protect it. The Hunter’s Dream was a temperate place, but this Great One was so young. It would take it eons to grow, perhaps. To take its place as master of the Dream. Or maybe it would take only hours--time was funny in this place between the waking world and eternal slumber. It shifted feebly in her grasp, trying to get closer to her and the warmth she exuded.

“Oh, good hunter,” she stroked it lightly, and she could tell it was pleased at the attention. But it was cold, so very cold. Something this small should still be with its parent, not orphaned. But that was the way of the Great Ones, was it not? A cycle of loss and death, life and rebirth. The doll was no wet nurse, but she knew love, knew caring. She could watch over this small, pathetic thing until it grew. She would keep it warm, and safe. But she did not even have a bassinet to keep it in, no baby carriage or anything else. Even Mergo’s caretaker had more to work with than she.

The doll thought for a moment, hugging the good hunter close. It happily nuzzled against her, tiny tendrils latching onto her dress and pulling, trying to soak in the heat. She giggled again, glad to see even exhausted it was still lively. “What shall I do with you?”

She walked slowly up the steps towards the workshop. A familiar place would do it good, and the good hunter had spent many hours within, forging weapons and impressing runes upon his mind. She hummed a little tune as she walked, a sweet lullaby that she somehow knew it’d heard before, though those singers had not been as friendly as she. Despite this, it relaxes in her hold, comforted by the familiarity when everything else must surely be so very strange for it. After all, it had no reason to fear those singers any longer.

The doll somehow knew what to do, guided by something she couldn’t explain, and had no need to. She was a doll, created to love and care for the hunters who passed through, and the ones who stayed.

The fireplace in the Workshop crackled merrily, Only the main doors were open, as in preparation of keeping all the heat inside. Everything was as it was before the fire, before the Hunt’s end. The stacks of books haphazardly on every corner, the weapons stored neatly along a wall. As the doll and the newest Great One entered, the doors closed behind them, moved by the young one’s will. The doll smiled again. Already it was coming into its own, even if such a display was a small exhibition of the power it would grow into.

The Workshop itself was very warm, but the doll knew this was not enough for the good hunter. It would need more. Gently, carefully she placed it on the soft rug, whispering soft words of comfort at the distress she felt from it.

“Do not worry, my good hunter. It will be for but a moment,” she assured it. The doll worked quickly, dropping her knickers and setting them carefully to the side. She set one booted foot to either side of the small Great One and lowered herself to the ground, lifting her skirts so they would not be rumpled beneath her, and also giving a clear view, though she suspected the good hunter did not See quite the same way.

It seemed interested still, tendrils as thick as her finger brushing hesitantly against her mound, prodding against her slit. She reached between her legs, pulling at her folds and stretching herself wide. Her breath hitched a little, though strictly speaking she did not need to breathe at all. Despite being built as close to a human as possible, the one she’d been created for had always been too shy to do more than a peck on the cheek; being taken by other hunters was not quite the same as this.

The Great One sought the warmth offered in her core, letting the tendrils delve in, wriggling in further. It was strange for her, far slicker than any of the men she’d been with, and so much larger. She spread her legs a little wider, trying to ease the ache. The good hunter seemed to understand, and moved slowly, despite its eagerness. Its tendrils pushed gently at her entrance, helping her open so she would be able to take it. Slowly it burrowed deeper, tendrils and then the the first part of its new body entering her. The doll took deep, calming breaths, trying to get used to the burning stretch. It wasn’t unpleasant, its movement within kindling a warmth low within her belly. 

She wasn’t certain it’d fit--it was huge after all, longer in total than her torso, but internal damage wasn’t something she needed to fear. She’s only a doll, created to love and help the hunters. Only a doll, and she would help this hunter. She kept telling herself that, even as it slid further in, helped by the strange slime it exuded and her own slick. The feeling of it against her inner walls was pleasant, and made her desire it more. It wanted to be with her, inside her and safe. She needed it there as well, desires warped by its will. The more of the Great One that disappeared into her body, the larger her stomach grew, unnaturally distending. Oner hand rubbed the outline of the good hunter inside, a faint smile on her face. She was so full, but there was still so much more to go. Her breasts started to ache, 

The doll bit her lip, looking at how much was left.. Her muscles worked, clenching tightly around it, inviting it deeper, though it was already so far. She gasped and moaned as it writhed further, all her thoughts focused on the young one. At an agonizingly slow pace it slipped inside, rewarding her by pressing against her inner walls, curling within to make more room for itself. She panted heavily, trying to get air that she didn’t need.

An eternity later the last of it slid in, twisting around for a moment before settling down, finally warm and contented. The doll panted heavily, admiring her girth, the way her skin stretched to contain what was now deep within her womb. The thought of it as her womb brought a pleasure to her as well. There was something she thought must be pride that swelled in her heart, mingled with the recently discovered joy.

The doll had never considered motherhood. Dolls were made to be used, after all. But the thought that the good hunter would view her as mother had her humming a little lullaby. Something ancient, the song the Great Ones sang to their young. Someday it would be grown enough to leave the safety her body offered. For now, it would sleep, and grow. Contented and exhausted, the doll curled up on her side, arms cradling her precious child.

 


End file.
